Kris began to pace again, her brow furrowed in concentration. She filled Sorcha in on everything she'd done two days ago, from the moment she awoke, to the time she went to bed.
She left out the fact that she'd dreamed of Iain for months before her trip but hadn't dreamt of him that night. She stopped pacing for a moment when she began to recount what she'd done before she went to bed.
"I remember going to the library in the castle and I spent some time in there, reading and taking notes." She sat down on the bed. "Then, before I went to bed, I was looking at the watch I had purchased at the fair. I found an inscription engraved on it." She tried hard to remember what it said, closing her eyes to picture the watch in her mind. She could not, for the life of her, remember what she had read on the watch, however.
"Ye say ye purchased it at a fair? What did it look like?"
Kris described the watch to her. "It was really quite a lovely piece. I knew Lucas would love it. The woman told me it belonged to Iain, actually."
"From whom did ye purchase this timepiece?"
"Oh," Kris shrugged, "I don't know, some old woman selling jewelry and baubles, mostly junk. But then she brought out this beautiful watch on a gold chain."
"What did this woman look like?"
"She was old, grey hair, kind of bent over."
"Did she have dark coloring?"
Kris nodded.
"Was she verra old?"
"She was ancient."
"I see." Sorcha nodded her head thoughtfully as she sent another glance toward Elsbeth. "It was a Rom," She nodded her head decisively.
"A Rom?"
"A gypsy. They travel about, entertaining and selling their wares." Sorcha tapped a finger against her bottom lip for a moment. "Tell me, what did ye read on the watch?"
“I can't remember." Kris looked at her for a moment, her brow furrowed in concentration. She shrugged helplessly, "it was late, and I was very tired." Kris shifted around so she sat with her legs pulled up onto the bed. She would start to drive Sorcha mad if she started pacing again.
There wasn't much else she could remember, except, “I had a dream that night too." She snapped her fingers, "after I had finished figuring out what the watch read I went to bed right after that…” She said trailing off as she thought of the dream.
"What sort of a dream?"
"I felt like I was floating, but not really. It wasn't a comfortable floating. The inertia was horrible. The next thing I remember, I was standing in the woods. Someone called to me. I got scared and started to run. When I ran, I tripped on a root or a rock or something. The next thing I remember is waking up here.”
"Ye must remember exactly what was written on that watch." Sorcha was insistent. "Do ye still have it?"
"I don't know. I doubt it. I put it on the table beside the bed when I went to sleep. I didn't even remember it until just now." Kris looked over at a small table, part of her hoping that the watch would magically be there. No watch. She climbed off the bed and looked under there. You never knew, it might be here. Although maybe she was just clinging to false hope. Nothing. She stood up and shook her head, tears beginning to form again.
"Ye must remain calm Kristianna. I will try to speak with Iain. He can be most stubborn at times, but I will see what I can do. In the meantime, ye must try to recall exactly what that inscription said."
"I will." Kris nodded her head hesitantly, not sure why Sorcha was so adamant, but glad for the ally just the same.
"I must leave ye for a time now. I have much to do."
"Thank you, Sorcha."
"For what lass?"
"For believing me."
"There is no need for thanks." She hugged Kris and then left the room, nodding to the guard on her way out.
* * *
"Well, what do you think?" Sorcha asked Elsbeth, finding her long-time companion waiting for her in her rooms.
"I know not what to think, my lady."
"I know you better than that, Elsie." Sorcha tsked her friend. "You think something, you always do." She sat in the chair beside Elsbeth, "it wasn't supposed to work this way, was it?"
"Nay," Elsbeth shook her head, "I dinnae believe so. But who can know how a spell will work, or when."
"We never should have asked a gypsy for her help. I, of all people, should have known better." Sorcha's voice was troubled.
"We dinnae know 'twould snatch the wee lass from her time and bring her to ours. Nor did we know 'twould be a Sassenach who arrived."
Sorcha gave her a doubtful look. "We should have been more careful in our instructions when we asked Morag to help us find Iain's true mate. We maybe shouldn't have interfered. There are other, more important things we could have asked her help with, such as locating my daughter." Sorcha sighed. "I just pray that Caitlyn is safe and unharmed, where ever she is."
"Aye, but we had no idea Caitlyn would disappear again when we asked Morag for her help. When ye saved that woman from those brigands and she promised ye a favor in return, we had no idea that Caitlyn would use the confusion of the move here to run off again. Ye simply wished to honor your husband's dying request. 'Twas an honorable thing for ye to do, Sorcha."
Sorcha nodded a little sadly. "Now, we must deal with the consequences of our foolishness, I suppose. We must help Kristianna find that watch. Then we shall take both her and it to Morag and beg her help in returning the lass to her own time."
"Ye could have asked Morag for a boon of your own." Elsbeth stated, looking hard at Sorcha.
"Nay, I have nothing to return too. My life is here with my clan and I will stay here."
Elsbeth chewed her lip, a question forming in her eyes.
"Ask what you will, Elsie. I've never known ye to hold back before, don't start now."
"I was just wondering, will ye tell the lass the truth? About yourself I mean."
Sorcha shrugged. "I dinnae know yet. 'Tis something that will take much thought and prayer before I decide that. I do know, however, that Kristianna must be returned to her home."
"'Tis probably for the best." Elsie agreed, albeit reluctantly. She didn't voice the thought that Caitlyn had disappeared shortly after they'd enlisted Morag's aid. 'Twould do Sorcha no good to cause her more concern over her only daughter.
"'Twas a foolish thing for me to try to meddle in the first place." Sorcha insisted. "I only wished to see my children happy, as their father and I were happy. Alistair felt the same. Although he exacted the promise from me, he had no idea that I would try to see it happen the way I did. He only wished, after Iain's first two betrothed wives turned out to be such disasters, that I would watch out for him and Caitlyn. That I would see that they didn't make a mistake by marrying the wrong person. In my impatience, I thought to hurry things along, and now look what's happened. That poor girl thinks she's gone completely witless and my boneheaded son has no idea what kind of lass he's dealing with."
Elsie chuckled.
"What do ye find so amusing?"
"'Twill certainly be entertaining to watch."
Sorcha couldn't help a laugh of her own, "oh, aye, it will be that."
Iain's first betrothal had been a disaster. The chit had only agreed to marry Iain because her father had threatened to put her in a convent. Iain had thought he could sway the girl to his purpose. But she'd been in love with someone else. In the end, she'd run off with her lover.
His betrothal to Isobel had been no better, in fact, it had been much worse. The shrew he'd decided to wed was no more than a greedy, grasping, lowborn whore, though she'd tried to claim otherwise, insisting Iain had saved her from a life of drudgery.
With her cherubic face and golden hair, Iain had fallen hard for Isobel. Believing he'd finally found love, he arranged to wed her immediately. The betrothal papers were barely signed and celebrated, the date set for the wedding, when Alistair sent Iain on an errand to their allies for some support against the Colquhoun's.
Isobel had shown her true colors and purpose then. She'd ta
ken to disappearing for hours and at all times, returning to the castle after her long absence with her face flushed with excitement. After a bit of investigating, Sorcha and Elsie discovered where she was going. She'd been meeting with Tomas Campbell for a tryst in an empty cottage at the edge of MacGregor lands.
Sorcha and Elsie had rushed to inform Alistair, but they'd been too late. By the time they reached the edge of the woods to the keep, the Campbell's where already attacking. Not only from the outside, but from within as well. Isobel had informed them how to breach the keep by showing them the secret passage beneath the castle walls.
Sorcha and Elsie had kept themselves hidden until they saw the Campbell's ride away victorious, Isobel with them. They had run into three Campbell scouts, however and Sorcha had done her best to defend herself and Elsie. Iain had ridden in and seen them, immediately coming to their aid. Sorcha had suffered several wounds, including one to her shoulder and one that ran the length of her neck. She now wore high-necked gowns to cover the scars of that time as well as the brand she'd received there for being a MacGregor.
A sting of guilt stabbed her heart. If she'd only been a bit faster, perhaps she could have been in time to stop the slaughter.
She shook herself free of her memories. They did her no good. By going to see Morag, she'd only succeeded in achieving a bigger mess. Somehow, God willing, she would remedy the situation and see Kristianna returned to her own time.
Chapter Eight
Kris sighed with relief as she sank into the soft chair by the fire. At least you're not losing your marbles, my girl.
If she could only remember what had been inscribed on that darn watch. She could vaguely remember something about mist and time and love, but other than that, it was a blank. The harder she tried to remember, the more indistinct it became.
She rose from her chair and poked at the fire. It didn't really need attention, but she had to do something or she was going to end up stir crazy from trying to force herself to remember.
As she stared into the flames, thoughts of home intruded her mind. A deep sadness washed over her. Would she ever see her family again?
She shook her head almost violently, knowing it would not be a good idea to let those thoughts run around in her head right now. If she did, she really would be in hysterics by the time her bath arrived. Then Iain would most certainly have her thrown into the dungeon. She had to think about other things, like what that inscription on the watch was.
She also had to try to figure out what kind of evidence she could offer Iain that he'd believe. Or she still might find herself making a home in his dungeon or burned at the stake as a witch. A shudder ran through her at that thought.
A bath, she decided. That's what she needed. Soaking in a hot tub always helped her to think, especially after a long day. And God knew these were the longest two days she'd ever lived through.
She turned from the fire, realizing if she kept poking at it, she'd only succeed in putting it out. She crossed her arms in front of her and strolled over to the window. She was bored.
Glancing in the mirror on the wall by the window she grimaced. Her weariness showed. Peering closer into the glass, she stuck her tongue out. Good grief, what a mess. Her hair hung in limp tangles she didn't think she'd never get out, even if she brushed it for a week straight.
She swiped at a smudge of dirt on her cheek, but that only served to make it worse, seeing her hands were grubby with soot from playing with the fireplace. Her nightshirt was finally dry, although not as clean as she would have liked. She put it back on anyway. The lukewarm water she'd used to wash it in hadn't gotten it very clean, but it was something familiar and comfortable.
"Disgusting."
She must have been beyond exhausted to have fallen asleep in it in the state it had been before she'd washed it. Where was that bath Sorcha had promised? Hands on her hips, she strode purposefully to the door. Turning the knob, she was surprised when it opened with no resistance.
Poking her head into the hall, Kris gasped as the largest man she'd ever seen grunted and stepped forward to block her path. He could probably take on the entire offensive line of the Patriots and win without even breaking a sweat.
"May I be of assistance, my lady?" He asked politely, with a stiff bow.
"Err, yes, I, umm was just wondering about my bath."
"I shall see what is keeping it, my lady," the giant rumbled from deep in his chest, one brow raised. "But ye must return to your room and promise to remain there else I shall have to lock ye in again. No matter what the lady Sorcha says, I will no' risk the laird's anger."
"Cross my heart," Kris nodded, "I won't leave this room." She smiled and held up her hand in pledge.
"Does that mean I have your word?" the guard asked with a puzzled frown.
"Yes, it does." Kris answered chuckling before she could help it. She was going to have to be much more careful or she'd never be understood. She offered the guard a smile, turned back into the room, and shut the door.
Now, she just needed clothes to wear. Preferably, something that would cover her backside a bit more than her nightshirt did and something a bit less revealing than this see through nightgown. What everyone thought when they looked at her bare legs, she shuddered to imagine. Maybe she could find something simple among the bounty in the wardrobe, something that would fit her.
She'd just flung open the double doors to have a look when there was a short rap at the door. It opened to admit several boys carrying a large wooden tub and steaming buckets of hot water. Elsbeth followed close on their heels.
Kris smile at her and stood back as Elsbeth directed the boys where to set up the tub.
"Nay, no' there, ye dolt. Do ye want the lady to catch a chill?" She swatted the tall, gangly boy on the side of the head, "use your wits, Donald. Put it there, by the fire." She nodded in satisfaction as the boy obeyed immediately. "Aye, that's better."
The tub in place, the other boys emptied their buckets into it. Elsbeth shooed them from the room as soon as the last one finished and turned back to Kris.
"I will help ye wash, my lady, and then dress."
"I don't think I really need any help bathing, Elsbeth." Kris knew she must have blushed all the way to her toes, for she felt the heat in her cheeks and on her neck. Nobody had bathed her since she was a small child. She glanced at the gowns hanging in the closet, "but I may need a bit of help dressing if you're planning on putting one of those on me."
Elsbeth chuckled warmly. "Aye, ye will if what ye told the Lady Sorcha about being from the future is in truth. Especially if what ye now wear over your nightclothes is any indication of what is considered fashionable attire."
Kris laughed. "Actually, yes, it is normal, but only for nightwear or with pants. Er, trews, I mean. Although I've seen some girls in my day wear dresses this short, it's not really popular anymore. This is called a nightshirt. I only sleep in it."
"Saints be praised for that, though 'tis still a strange looking garment, e'en for night attire."
"I suppose it is. You'd be surprised by what is considered fashionable in my time." She nodded in the direction of the gowns, "I'm afraid I wouldn't even know where to begin with that stuff. My best friend Hailey would, though. She's very into the fashions of this time period and before." Kris thought a moment, "oh, and one more thing. I absolutely will not, under any circumstances, wear a corset. I've heard more horror stories about those things than I care to recount."
Elsbeth raised a skeptical brow at her.
"In my time, women don't wear corsets. Well, at least not like those. The ones we wear are smaller, only covering the breasts. I like to breath, and I refuse to wear anything that will inhibit that ability. If what I've heard and read about corsets is anywhere close to the truth, you can just forget it." Kris was adamant.
"'Tis your decision, my lady." It was Elsbeth's turn to laugh. "Although I will grant ye are right about the corset. 'Tis nay something that is a joy to wear and I forgo the burde
n whene're possible. I've ne'er known a lady to do the like before, howe'er." She shrugged and moved to the tub. She pulled the stopper out of a small bottle and poured a bit into the steaming bathwater.
"Well, ladylike or not, I'm not wearing one." She turned her back and removed her nightshirt and the nightgown a bit self-conscious. Dropping it on the floor, she quickly climbed into the tub. "Mmmm, what is that delicious smell?"
"'Tis heather, mixed with a bit of lavender. The lady Sorcha prefers its scent above all others. She thought ye would enjoy it as well."
"It is heavenly. And this warm water is wonderful." Kris closed her eyes, feeling her tense muscles finally begin to relax. She sighed with pleasure.
"Would ye like me to dispose of this for ye, my lady?"
Kris popped an eye open. Elsbeth held her nightshirt by two fingers well away from herself as if she were afraid it would grow teeth and bite her.
"No!" She almost jumped from the water to rescue her shirt. "I mean, it just needs a better washing and it'll be as good as new," she smiled. No way would she give up that shirt after all the trouble she'd gone through to get it. She had swiped it fair and square from her older brother, Lucas. She'd had to wait for the perfect moment when he wasn't looking, then had to dig around in his closet to find it. He'd tried to hide it, but to no avail. She'd found it buried in a box on his top shelf where he'd figured she'd never look because she couldn't reach it.
Huh! She'd fooled him. She'd enlisted Hailey to help her, and her friend was quite tall.
"'Tis more likely it needs to be burned than washed." Elsbeth tsked.
"No way," she insisted with feeling. Kris forced a laugh past the sudden lump in her throat. "That's my favorite nightshirt. It will be fine once it's seen some hot, soapy water. You'll see."
Elsbeth looked skeptical, but said no more about it. Instead, she dropped the offending garment by the door and went to the wardrobe. Kris watched as Elsbeth combed through the gowns. She brought forth several, which she then lay across the bed.
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